Letting Go
by VioletStella
Summary: Jo makes a significant change in wardrobe.


Letting Go

"Why? Why am I doing this?" Jo looked at her reflection in the full length mirror not satisfied with what she saw. This was the third time she'd changed clothes and the image which greeted her only prompted her back to her closet for a fourth try. She made a mental note of all the previously rejected clothes now strewn everywhere; on her bed, on the dresser, on Sean's favorite chair. She hesitated only slightly as she moved past the chair, forcing herself not to think about Sean. She also forced herself not to think about how the clothes piled on the bed reminded her of the coats that had rested there during the long ago parties they'd thrown. The last time she'd had that many guests over was for the reception after Sean's funeral. The parties were over.

She peered once again into the dark abyss of her closet. "Date. I have a date," she muttered as she rifled through her clothes once again. The clothes had no response to her frantic burrowing; they certainly couldn't pick out the perfect outfit for her. "Black. Why is almost everything I own black?"

She barred any thoughts of a funeral from her mind and told herself instead that she lived in New York City and not only was black the new black, it was the old black, in fact in New York, wearing black was de rigueur.

"There's nothing here," she thought and turned back to the already rejected clothes, glaring at them for not providing her with the perfect outfit she was looking for.

Why had she agreed to this again? Because Mike said she needed more fun? She did, but at this particular moment, she certainly wasn't having any fun, and she wasn't sure that the rest of the evening had any potential for fun either. She realized she needed help. She walked over to pick up the phone from her dresser, but only stared at it. Who was she going to call? Lt. Reece? Not that she didn't think her boss wouldn't be supportive, it's just that she was her boss. One person down. Mike? He'd be supportive, he was her partner, it was his job to be supportive. He was the one who encouraged her in this in the first place. Still, it didn't feel quite right to call him either.

The proverbial light bulb went on in her head. Henry. He'd be the right person to call; he'd know the correct words to say and he'd say them perfectly. Just the sound of his voice comforted her. She paused; the thought of Henry's comforting voice suddenly unnerving her. She shouldn't be thinking about another man's melodious voice; "and killer accent," an impish part of her mind nudged, when she was going on a date with someone else. She put the phone down and backed away from the dresser, almost tripping over a haphazardly discarded pair of shoes.

She wanted to scream. A wave of anger came out of nowhere and threatened to explode. The thought, "I shouldn't even be in this mess!" raced across her mind. Her eye caught the framed photo of Sean on her nightstand. With a purposeful walk she rushed over to it. Sitting on the side of the bed she grasped the photo in one hand. "Why aren't you here?" the wave of anger demanded to know. The photo of her smiling late husband continued to smile silently at her. Her hand clasped her dangling wedding ring; worrying it in her fingers she tried to find comfort. "How did everything go so wrong?" she gasped plaintively to the empty room.

A tear dropped onto the glass. "Dammit," she said as she wiped away the tear. She placed the frame on the bed, adding to the collection of clothes and accessories already there, then hurried to the bathroom to rescue her makeup. She didn't have time to redo her makeup and find something else to wear. The mirror showed her that her makeup was still within acceptable date parameters. The look on her face was not. She shook her head, thinking, "this is ridiculous. It's absurd. I'm not ready. I'll call Isaac and tell him I have to cancel." Her mind made up she went back to the bedroom to get the phone.

She glanced around at the mess she'd made. The room was a shambles. Ignoring any metaphor that the state of the room reflected her state of mind, she instead wondered how long it was going to take her to clean up. As she suddenly had no other plans for the night, it didn't matter how long it would take her, she had all evening. It wasn't even the mess itself that bothered her, it was the unrelenting darkness of the room. Her clothes were dark. The furniture was dark. The walls were dark. The only burst of color in the room was from the red roses Isaac had sent her. Having made the journey home from the office with her, they now stood on the dresser, a beacon calling out to her. Hope. One bright spot of hope throwing her a lifeline. She knew she had to take the chance being given to her.

She sighed. "No more excuses, Jo. You need to move on; to have fun." Her short pep talk was enough. She took a deep breath and looked at the clock; there was indeed no more time for another change of clothes. Standing in front of the full length mirror again, she didn't hate the outfit quite so much this time around. One glaring change had to be made, however. She wondered why she hadn't noticed it the first time around. Denial was why she hadn't noticed it the first time around. It was the ring. It was time to take off the ring. She wondered what Henry would think about that. Then she wondered why she wondered what Henry might think about that.

She touched the ring gently. "Just for a few hours, I'll leave it here while I am gone, then put it back on later." With this rationalization, she moved her hands to unclasp the necklace, they shook slightly, but completed their task. A short lived tinge of betrayal colored her thoughts as she held the ring in her hand, caressing it with her thumb and willing herself not to cry. "He's gone, I can't do anything about it," she thought as she closed her hand over the ring. Memories threatened to break her resolve, she thought of Sean and their wedding. She thought of the day she met him. She remembered strolling through Central Park with him. Thoughts of making pancakes together and moments of laughter kaleidoscoped through her head. She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to make the memories go away. "Past; it's all in the past. I have to let go." She took a deep breath and urged her arm to move forward and place the ring on the dresser.

For the first time in years, the ring was apart from her. Strangely, she didn't feel its loss. She felt lighter, with just a slight bit of a buzz tingling through her. There was a sense of release, of completion. She didn't even consider grabbing the ring and putting it back on. She stared at the ring, her breathing becoming strong and steady. Instead of a talisman of grief that she wore around her neck, sometimes protecting her from emotional entanglements, and sometimes feeling as though it was strangling her; the ring now gave her strength. She'd made a break with the past and was taking a step tonight to create a wondrous future; or if not a wondrous future, at least she'd have some fun.

She had to call Henry to tell him about this; she knew he would understand the major step she'd just taken. She picked up the phone and the doorbell buzzed, driving away the phone call and any further thoughts she might have had about Henry. With one last look in the mirror she took a deep breath and said, "wish me luck." But there was, of course, no one there to wish her anything. She smiled and walked downstairs briskly to answer the door.

Back in the bedroom now masquerading as a clothes hamper, one bright beam of moonlight shone through the window. It focused on the left behind wedding ring, illuminating the symbol of love in a ray of light amidst the darkness of the chaos.


End file.
